Chapter 10
After spending some time shining a light in Tim's eyes, the doctor at the hospital in Ashton, Idaho straightened with a smile on his face. "Well, Mr. McGee, you are a very lucky man. You have two broken ribs, but they should heal up fine. None of the lacerations festered, and even the graze from the bullet was shallow and not serious. You'll be a few weeks in healing, but your recovery should be complete."
"What about my memory?" Tim asked, fearfully.
"You said that you're getting glimmers already?"
"Yes, but only little things."
"Well, I can't say for certain because we just don't know enough at this point, but I'd venture a guess that everything will come back to you... eventually."
"How long will that take, though?"
The doctor shrugged. "Days? Weeks? Even years is possible. I really don't know. However, the more you're around people and places you know, the more you'll remember and the more likely it is that you'll get your memory back completely."
"I'd hoped that..." Tim colored and stopped talking.
The doctor gave him a kind smile. "You hoped that I could make you remember everything, that there was a pill or something that could recover your memories."
Tim looked down and nodded.
"Well, I'm sorry. There's nothing like that, but you want to know who you are, and you are remembering some things. Don't lose hope that it will all come back."
"Why did it happen anyway?"
"Amnesia has many different causes. Since you can't remember exactly what happened to you, we can only guess as to the exact cause. More than likely, it was a combination of head trauma and psychological trauma. Some people close their minds away from traumatic events. Often, that will only involve the loss of the memory of the incident, but sometimes, the events are traumatic enough that the entire mind, essentially, hides from what happened. That's when hysterical post-traumatic amnesia or dissociative amnesia occurs."
Tim covered his head in his hands. The doctor chuckled and patted him on the shoulder.
"Don't get so depressed, Mr. McGee. It's not the end of the world, although I know it may feel that way. Remember that it will come back, just not when you want it to, necessarily."
"That's not very comforting right now."
"I know." He paused, took a deep breath and continued, "Now, here is the part where I become a regular doctor. No heavy lifting or otherwise strenuous activity for the next few weeks. I've given you a prescription for an analgesic which should reduce the pain to an endurable level... although, considering how long you went without help, any relief would be endurable wouldn't it. You have some stitches on the worst lacerations on your legs. Keep the dressing dry and have them checked out when you get back to DC. Use a topical antibiotic on the smaller lacerations and just make sure they don't get infected, same with the cuts on your hands. Any questions?"
"No."
"Okay. I'll release you to your colleagues. Do you remember anything about them?"
Tim slid gingerly off the examination table. "Not much. I remember their faces."
The doctor led him to the doorway. "But you've remembered something, right?"
"Yeah, I suppose."
"Don't suppose. Like Yoda told Luke, 'Do or do not. There is no try.'"
Tim smiled. "Now, you sound like Tony. He always relates things to movies."
"Always?"
Tim smile grew a little wider. "Yes, always. I remember that."
"See what I mean?"
"Yes."
"Good. Try to enjoy the rest of your stay in Ashton. There's not much to do if you're a city person, but it's beautiful, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," Tim admitted. It was true. The scenery was quite beautiful... when it wasn't trying to kill him. He saw Gibbs, Ziva and Tony sitting in the waiting room and realized he had completely accepted them as part of his background. He didn't know them still, but he trusted them. Now, if he could only remember the rest.
"Ready to go, McGee?"
Tim nodded. "Ready."
"Good. The car's just outside. We just need to check out of the hotel and then it's about an hour or so to the airport in Idaho Falls."
"Okay." Tim followed the three out of the hospital and to the parking lot, small though it was. As he started to cross the street, Tim glanced idly around him, taking in the sights he must have seen a few days before. Then, he stopped dead in the middle of the street, appearing to stare blankly down the road.
Ziva looked back and noticed his distinct lack of progress and nudged Tony. They both walked back to Tim.
"Hey, Probie. What's up?"
"McGee? Is something wrong?"
Tim was lost in a memory that had hit him so hard that he was speechless. He started to raise his hand to point, but stopped. He just stared. On the outside, he appeared frozen, but his mind was a frenzy of activity.
Tim wandered a little further from the crash site, taking photos. He was about to head back to check on the interior of the plane when he noticed some debris outside the clearing. There was no telling if it was part of the crime scene, but Tim sighed and headed over to it. He knew that if Gibbs found it and he, Tim, had not documented it, he'd be in big trouble. He had a good system going by this point. Photograph, document, bag and tag. Take two steps and repeat. When the debris finally ended, Tim noticed that the ground was all stirred up, as if someone had been dragging a heavy load through the forest. He looked back toward the site and was surprised to find that he couldn't see it anymore. It was amazing how quickly the trees swallowed people up, sounds and sights both.
He pulled out his radio and called back to the scene.
"Henson."
"Oh, sorry, Henson, I was aiming for Gibbs."
"You want me to get him?"
Oh, definitely not, he thought. "No. I'm just photographing some debris outside the crash site. Let him know, will you?"
"Will do, Agent McGee."
"Thanks." Tim signed off and continued on his way. He had no idea how far along he'd gone, but he knew that in order to get back, he simply had to follow the river, provided he didn't fall into it. The gorge could be pretty steep in places. He stopped when he heard voices. He was almost positive that he hadn't gotten turned around. These were other people, besides the rangers.
Tim approached cautiously. He knew that Gibbs had theorized that the crash was no accident, that someone had taken it down intentionally to get at the cargo. If he had come up those people, he could be in over his head. He probably should go back and get help. But what if they were gone by the time he got back? He'd better investigate first. Ignoring the voice in his head telling him that this was a terrible idea, Tim closed in on the voices.
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"Do you think it's a side effect of the painkillers?" Tony said.
"I don't think catatonia is a normal reaction to an analgesic, Tony," Ziva replied. She shook Tim a little. "Hello? McGee?"
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"I'll take that gun," said the other man, suiting actions to words.
Tim surrendered it, knowing he had no choice. The man also took his radio and threw on the ground hard enough to break it. Then, he back around so that he was near the crates. He sneered at Tim.
"NCIS, eh? Where's your backup?"
Tim didn't respond. He knew it had been a mistake to come here alone, but he'd had no idea that there would be a clearing so suddenly. He hadn't planned on a confrontation. Gibbs is going to kill me, he thought miserably. And Tony will never let me live it down.
"What are we going to do with him?" the first man asked, worriedly.
"No witnesses."
Tim realized that he was about to be shot with his own gun. I don't want to die this way! He started to back away. Unfortunately, the edge of the river came upon him as suddenly as the clearing had. He slipped on the edge, trying to keep himself from falling. At the same time, the man fired. It was only Tim's attempt to stay upright that kept him from being killed, but the bullet still grazed his temple. He screamed in pain and slipped off the edge. He remembered something he'd learned a long time ago: When falling, try to throw yourself forward and grab onto something. Tim tried his best, but rocky walls gave him no purchase. He tore up his hands trying to hold onto something on the cliff face, but nothing stopped him. At the same time, his legs churned vainly against the rocks in an attempt to slow his inevitable descent.
The cliff suddenly disappeared and Tim was falling unrestrained. He hit the water a short time later with all the force of a sledgehammer. His last view, before water and darkness closed over him, was of the two men peering over the edge at him. Gibbs is definitely going to kill me, he thought and surrendered to the darkness.
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"Gibbs? I don't know what's wrong with him."
Gibbs tried to follow Tim's gaze, but as he did so, Tim came awake with a gasp.
"McGee! What happened?"
Tim ignored them. What had seemed to him to take hours to relive had only taken seconds, and he could see. More importantly, he could remember!
"That man has my gun!" he shouted and took off running down the street.
At his shout, a nondescript man looked up from his car door. He paused for only a fraction of a second before drawing his, or rather Tim's, gun and firing.
"McGee, get down!" Ziva shouted. She tore after him, drawing her own gun and returning fire.
"When did we suddenly get involved in a Western shootout?" Tony said and followed after Ziva and Tim.
"Since we came to the West!" Gibbs replied. "I'll go for his car. You try to give Tim and Ziva some cover."
"Will do, Boss!" Tony pulled his gun ran diagonally toward the man, laying down a covering fire. Tim was still running full out at the man, obviously thinking about little other than getting his gun back. Ziva was only a short distance behind trying to cover Tim and not get shot herself. About a minute after he started firing, however, he was forced to stop because Tim had somehow reached him without getting any extra holes in his body. As the two collided, the man was forced into his open door and then onto the ground. The gun flew from his grasp as he struggled to gain the upper hand.
A few moments more, and Ziva entered the fray. She knew that whatever adrenaline Tim had rushing through him at the moment wouldn't last long in hand-to-hand combat. Then, Gibbs reached the car from the other side and had his gun out, aiming at the tangle of bodies on the ground.
"Ziva! Don't kill him!" he ordered, knowing that she could let herself get out of control in these situations.
Tim was flung backward out of the heaving mass, groaning and clutching his chest. He backed a few feet away and collapsed. Then, the tangle resolved into two people: Ziva, holding the man around the neck with one arm twisted painfully behind his back.
"Stop struggling or I will kill you," she said, panting slightly. The man finally went still. Gibbs worried briefly that Ziva would just kill him anyway, but she shoved his face hard into the asphalt and pulled out her cuffs. "You're under arrest for theft and assault of a federal agent," she said fiercely.
Tony knelt by Tim. "McGee! McGee, wake up! Are you okay?"
Tim's face was ashen and pinched with pain. His eyes were still closed, but he whispered, near tears, "I think that counted as strenuous activity."
"Yes, I believe it would, McGee," Tony said, almost giddy with relief. "How are you feeling?"
"Terrible, but it will make a nice chapter in Rock Hollow," Tim said.
Ziva turned toward Tim at his words. "What did you say, McGee?"
He squinted. "I said it would make a nice chapter in my book. Can I have my gun back?"
Gibbs walked over to wear Tim's gun had landed. "Sorry, not yet, McGee; it's evidence right now." He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and carefully wrapped it.
"When can I get back?" Tim asked. For some reason, he felt naked without it, even though it usually made him a trifle uncomfortable to be carrying something that could kill people.
"We'll have to get it fingerprinted. Then, you can have it."
Ziva roughly pulled the prisoner to his feet and said, "Anyone remember where the police department is?"
"It's hardly a department. It's not big enough," Tim answered, "but it's that way." He pointed.
Everyone turned and looked at him.
"What? What are you all looking at me for?"
Instead of answering, Gibbs asked, "What's your apartment number?"
"Three. Why?"
"Your pen name?" Tony asked.
"Thom E. Gemcity. Why?"
"When did we first meet your sister?" Ziva shot off.
"When Sarah was under suspicion for murder. Why?"
"McGee..." Tony said, gleefully.
"You remembered," Ziva finished.
Tim blinked. "I did?"
"Yes."
"I did." Tim shuffled through various mental compartments and couldn't find any blank spots. "It's back." Another adrenaline rush surged through his veins and he jumped to his feet, hardly noticing the pain. "It's all back!"
He looked around at his friends, smiling widely, tears pricking his eyes. "I'm... I'm back," he whispered. "I'm me!" he shouted and suddenly hugged Tony. Then, he realized what he was doing and stepped back quickly, his face turning a bright red.
"Sorry, Tony."
"That's... uh, okay, McGee. Just don't ever do that again."
"Never," Tim said firmly.
"Besides, I think Abby might get jealous," Ziva said slyly.
If anything, Tim turned even more red. "I don't think so."
Tony smiled maliciously and said, "Maybe this will be more like Spellbound than I thought, McGee."
"Shut up, Tony," Tim said, but instead of hiding his face, he met Tony's eyes, a sign that he had learned something from recent events. He'd had the experience of not being intimidated by Tony and Gibbs and he'd remembered that along with his other memories.
Even though he didn't show it, Gibbs was equally relieved as he saw what Ziva had mentally termed the McGee-ness of Tim back in its rightful place on Tim's face.
He grabbed the prisoner and started to drag him back to the car. As he left he shouted over his shoulder, "Welcome back, McGee."
Tim smiled. "Thanks, Boss."
THE END
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A/N: The location for this story was inspired by a place near Ashton, Idaho called Cave Falls. The river there is punctuated with waterfalls, although not in the exact order of the story. It's a very beautiful place. I highly recommend it. :)